Would You, Could You
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Barry and Len are hanging out in Barry's bedroom after school when Barry asks his friend an unexpected question - one that could change the nature of their whole relationship…if Barry doesn't stick his foot in his mouth, which he does. High school AU. Barry Allen, Leonard Snart


**A/N: Okay, this is strictly a high school AU. I put Barry, Len, and Lisa at close to the same age (with Len being 17, Barry 16/17, and Lisa 15, though it's not expressly stated). Pre "The Flash" and not canon compliant.**

"Ugh!" Barry groans, tossing his cell phone, along with his hopes of his first ever hookup, into his pile of clothes on the floor. He throws himself on the end of his bed beside his friend, who's already a hundred pages deep into the latest Drew Chapman novel, when Barry had left him reading the page three.

"Bad call?" Len asks without looking up, barely interested.

"You could say that," Barry murmurs, running a hand up his face and into his hair. "Len" – Barry sighs, frustration causing him to ask a question he normally would never even consider asking – "would you have sex with me?"

"What?" Len turns to the next page. "Like right now?"

"No," Barry huffs. "I mean, like, if we were at a party or something, and I was drunk…"

"No," Len cuts him off without another word.

"What?" Barry sits up. "You're not even going to think it over or anything?"

"No, because I wouldn't take advantage of anyone while they were drunk," Len explains, eyes scanning the same page for a second time. "So, back it up a bit and take that out of the equation."

Barry sighs.

"Okay, Captain Specific," he says. "If we were at a party, and you didn't already know me, and you saw me across a crowded room…"

"Ah" – Len gives Barry a teasing grin without removing his eyes from the page – "the hopeless romantic."

"I'm being serious!"

"Look, why are you asking me this anyway?"

"Well," Barry starts, though he was hoping he wouldn't have to explain, "let's just say that after trying very hard to find someone who might, if at all, be interested in having any kind of sex with me, I have come to the conclusion that I am decidedly unfuckable, at every end of the spectrum."

"Well, then you're an idiot," Len concludes, putting his fingers underneath the words to help him concentrate, "because that ass alone is reason enough to fuck you."

"Thanks…I think," Barry says, shooting Len a strange look as he reclines against the wall.

"Barry, have you ever even _kissed_ someone?"

"Uh…yeah," Barry replies with a sarcastic lilt. "Of course, I have."

"Who isn't Iris, I mean? And possibly with some tongue?"

"Oh. Then, no," Barry says defeated. "No, I haven't."

"Well, maybe you should start there," Len suggests, "and let everything else follow."

Barry nods thoughtfully. "So, would you say it's easier to get someone to kiss you than it is to get someone to sleep with you?"

"Traditionally, yes."

"Do you think Lisa would kiss me?" Barry asks, testing the waters.

"Maybe," Len says, unintentionally creasing his page when he flips it. "But try it, and I'll break your legs."

"Thanks a lot."

Len laughs and turns another page. "Do you ever think that maybe you're trying too hard?"

"If I don't try, I won't succeed."

"Well, you've been trying, and you still haven't succeeded. So why don't you try _not_ trying, and see where that gets you?"

Barry turns to look at Len, staring intently at his book, trying to get back on track. Barry watches him, his eyes flicking over the words, how he mouths every few sentences, then licks his lips after, the impressive speed in which he devours a single page of text. But soon, Len feels Barry staring. His eyes dart to Barry's face after the third paragraph, and he smirks.

"What is it, Allen?"

"I was curious," Barry says. "I mean…I was kinda wondering…"

"No shit, Sherlock," Len says. "You've barely let me get through a page since you came back in. I thought you had homework you needed help with."

"I do," Barry says, "but I just want to know…"

"Spit it out. I'm getting to a good part here." He turns the page.

"Would you…maybe consider…kissing me?"

Len doesn't finish the line he's reading before he looks up, but he doesn't look at Barry. He looks off in the distance, thinking it over.

"I guess," he answers slowly, eyes drifting back to the page.

"So, is that a yes or a no?" Barry asks, getting anxious, not just at the thought of being kissed, but at the thought of one of his best friends – his decidedly most handsome friend, to be honest – giving him his first kiss.

"It's a _if the situation called for it, I guess I could jump on the grenade_."

Barry sulks into his mattress. "Again, thanks."

"Why would you want to kiss me anyway?" Len asks, staring at his page, his eyes unmoving. "I mean, give me some good reasons."

"Well, uh…" Barry searches his brain for a reason. He hadn't really thought of any. He didn't realize he'd have to plead his case. He thought the answer would either be _yes_ or _no_ , with him heavily hoping for a _yes_. "I think you'd be good at it," Barry says, feeling lame for that being his first reason.

"And I am."

"And," Barry says, coming up with something better, "you happen to be a very handsome guy."

"Yes, I am," Len says smugly, but with a tiny hint of heat coloring his cheeks.

"And, I can appreciate your rugged good looks. But mostly I'm just…I'm tired of waiting for that quote/unquote _special someone_ ," Barry says, rolling his head on the wall behind him. "I mean, what if that person isn't out there, or what if they live in Australia, and I'm not destined to meet them for, oh, twenty years? Twenty years for a first kiss, Len! I don't want to wait that long!"

"I wouldn't either if I was you," Len says dryly. His eyes finally move, skipping to the next page, their blue depths becoming unexpectedly cold all of a sudden.

"So…would you?" Barry asks, glancing over at Len. Len forgoes the end of his chapter and sticks his book mark in the spine of his novel.

"I would," Len says with a nod. "I absolutely would…but" – he turns and fixes Barry with a significant look before he continues, one severe and hard and maybe slightly hurt, killing the start of Barry's smile – "come back and see me when you want to kiss _me_ , and not just because you're tired of waiting."

Len gathers up his books and his back pack, stands up off the bed, and heads out the door.


End file.
